The Disenchanted Ghost of You
by gengen0776
Summary: A vampire hunt gone wrong, a girl in trouble...what's a Winchester to do? John plays the hero for a young runaway. But who's saving who? This story contains characters from Bambers2's series Angels and Demons, though it is not necessary to read the res
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Snow crunched beneath John Winchester's feet as he emerged from the warehouse door, clutching his bloodied abdomen. Music boomed rhythmically from within the building, disturbing the quiet night outside. The patrons of the rave inside blissfully unaware of how close they'd come to being vampire chow. Leaning against the outer wall of the warehouse for support, he stumbled toward his black pickup parked a short distance away.

John paused several times to blink away the blurred vision that accompanied the large gash on his forehead. He wondered momentarily what he was going to do when he got to his truck, knowing that driving would be tricky while he fought to remain conscious. He considered calling someone, Bobby maybe, but the last time he'd seen his friend the man had tried to shoot him full of buckshot. Then there was Ellen. She wasn't very far away and could patch him up. Again he hesitated. Things were awkward, strained even, between them since Bill died.

Music blasted from the open door behind him, alerting John to the presence of someone behind him.

"No…let…go…of…me!" He heard a young woman plead. He turned to see her struggling against the two men holding her immobile while a third leaned in with a sneer.

"Now, now is that any way to show your appreciation for what I've done for you?" the man asked in mock disappointment. "And here I thought you were gonna give me an early Christmas gift." The girl shrank back as he pushed aside her dazzling red hair and caressed her cheek.

"I-I p-paid you back f-for the ride…p-please just let me go," she begged as she struggled against her captors again.

"Oh, but you owe me much more than money."

John watched the man ran his tongue across the girl's cheek as she cringed in disgust. He sighed wearily, knowing he should probably mind his business as he really wasn't in any shape for a fight, but unable to stand by and watch what was about to happen. "Hey jerk-off why don't you pick on someone your own size?" He called, pushing himself from the side of the building as he pulled his gun from his waist band and pointed it at the men.

"This is none of your concern old timer," the man called, pulling away from the girl.

"Let her go and no one gets hurt," John called, filling his voice with as much authority and strength as he could muster.

The two men holding the girl turned to the third man who simply shook his head and took a step toward John. "Told you this is none of your concern." John squeezed off a warning round close enough so the guy knew he'd missed on purpose.

"And _I_ said, let the girl go and no one gets hurt." John stared the man down, demonstrating how serious he was. He prayed that the distance between them and shadows would keep his injuries hidden as the man considered his next move.

"Hey you want her that bad gramps, she's all yours." The man turned back to his colleagues and with a curt nod of his head they let go of the girl and followed the other man back into the warehouse.

Both John and the girl stood frozen, staring at the door for a moment both wondering if it was really over that easily. The girl turned to look at John as he leaned heavily against the side of the building. As the adrenalin wore off John was left fighting a losing battle to remain upright. He shook his head and blinked in an effort to clear his blurring vision as he felt himself slide down the wall until he was sitting on the snow-covered ground.

"S-sir? A-Are you okay?" the girl asked, sounding far away though John could see her crouched beside him.

"M'okay, Red," he mumbled as his eyelids drooped closed.

"Hey," the girl called, gently tapping John's cheek. "C'mon Gramps, we gotta get outta here before Ray comes back with some fire power of his own," she added, pulling on John's shirt lapels as she tried to stand him up.

"Don' call… me gramps," John mumbled as he struggled to help heave himself up from the snowy ground.

"Sure, whatever you want…" the girl mumbled as she threw John's arm across her shoulders in an effort to steady his sagging form. "Tell me you have a car around here."

John nodded, sluggishly pointing out his black pick up only a few feet away. As quickly as they could manage, the duo stumbled to his truck. Neither of them noticed when John's gun slid from his hand, the snow muffling the sound as it hit the ground. She managed to fish out John's keys, before easing him into the passenger's seat. John thought to protest, but couldn't find the energy to manage it. Instead he slumped back in his seat, working not to lose consciousness.

He watched as the girl hurried around the front of the truck to the driver's side. She quickly hopped into the seat beside him, jamming the key into the ignition and gunning the engine as both of them spotted Ray coming out of the building with reinforcements. She skidded out of the parking lot on the fresh snow, winding her way through the darkened streets. She stopped after a few blocks in front of a row of small shops long-since closed for the night.

"Hey gramps you still with me?" she called, giving John a tentative nudge.

"D-don' c-call me gr-gramps," John mumbled as his head lolled and he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"What should I call you then?"

"N-Name's J-John, John Winch-chester, Red"

"Well John, I'm Becca, so don't call me Red," she replied as she leaned in and looked him over. His eyes slid closed against his will as she gently lifted his chin and surveyed the gash on his forehead. He pried his eyes open as he felt her hands, probing along his bloody shirt before they lifted its sticky wetness from his abdomen exposing the deep gash there courtesy of a vampire with a knife that had come at him from behind while he'd beheaded its companion. "Geez, John do you run around asking for trouble?"

"Nah, i-it seems ta f-find me on i-its own." John forced a grin to his lips as the young woman looked down at him in concerned disbelief. He blinked a couple of times as he stared into her eyes, assuming that his blurred vision and head injury were the reasons he was seeing one brown eye and one blue staring back at him. "Y-yer eyes…"

"Uh huh, yup, got two of 'em," she replied, pulling away as she put the truck into drive. "Gonna take ya to the hospital, Johnny boy. Get ya all patched up and good as n—"

"N-no…no h-hospitals," John protested weakly. "T-too many ques-stions."

"Well, then where am I takin' ya?"

"Y-yer drivin' yourself…h-home an' then I'll drive m-myself…ta some-one I know… to p-patch me u—" John's words were cut off as Becca slammed on the breaks, throwing him forward against the dashboard.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." She threw the pickup into park and turned to look at John as he struggled to push himself back against the seat. "Shit," Becca cursed under her breath as she realized her abrupt stop had resulted in a new gash above John's left eye. "Damn, I'm sorry."

John grimaced as she helped him sit back. "D-damn kid…y-you coulda jus s-said no," he grumbled as he fought against the dark spots clouding his vision.

"Johnny?" Panic colored her voice as she watched John's eyes slide shut and his head lulled against the headrest. "J-John…c-come on now…y-you need ta open your eyes an' tell me where we're goin'." She tentatively touched his face, her hands cupping his bruised cheeks. "Okay, Gramps. We're goin' to the hos—"

John forced his eyes to open. "N-no…I s-said n-no hos—"

"Got ya to open your eyes!" Becca grinned nervously at him. "So, where am I takin' ya Gramps?"

John groaned, knowing this girl was his only hope of getting to Ellen's in one piece. "Grab the highway heading east," he supplied as he moved to pull the seatbelt across his body. He hissed as it sent pain searing across his injured abdomen. Becca was there in a heartbeat, reaching cautiously across him.

"Maybe we should do something to slow the bleeding," she mumbled under her breath as she eased herself back into her seat without clipping his seatbelt into place.

"M'fine, Red," he insisted as he watched her pull off the thin sweater she wore over a plain white cotton tee. Ignoring him, she gently lifted his blood-soaked shirt and pressed her sweater against the laceration, holding it there a moment as she bit pensively at her lip.

"Need you ta sit up a sec, Johnny," she requested. Her voice shook as she took his hand and placed it over the sweater. She unraveled the scarf from her neck as he struggled to comply. Once there was enough space between him and the seat she quickly wound her scarf around his waist, tightening it so that it held the sweater snuggly in place. "That should help with the bleeding." She forced a smile as she helped him lean back against the passenger seat, trying to ignore the blood that coated the lower back of the leather seat. "I hope," she mumbled, her smile faltering as she looked down at her battered savior.

"Thanks." John forced a smile of his own at the young woman's ingenuity. Becca reached across him again, pulling the seatbelt snuggly across his midsection and clipping it into place.

"I- I think that might help, too." Becca was grasping for anything she may have learnt about first aid over the years. _Apply pressure to the wound…check…Keep the person talking…conscious is good._ "Okay, so the highway heading east…I'm on it." She smiled as she pulled on her seatbelt and threw the truck into drive.

They drove in silence for a few minutes as she wound her way through the darkened streets to the highway. Once she hit the smooth blacktop of the highway she hazarded a glance at her injured companion. He stared at the road ahead through veiled eyelids. She watched his shallow breaths pluming out into the cold air of the truck and realized she was shivering. Again she racked her brain for something she'd heard about shock and keeping a person warm. She reached over and turned the knobs as high as they would go. The warm air blasting into the truck cab soon dispelled her trembling.

Rowan slid his car into the shadows beside the warehouse where he was meeting John. The pounding base from the music inside the building masking the low rumble of the Porsche Spyder's motor. He smirked as he imagined John's comment on his choice of hunting vehicle. Truthfully, it wouldn't have been his first choice, but he'd been running late.

He surveyed the area looking for John's black pickup, noticing it parked in the far corner of the warehouse parking lot. He thought he could see John in the passenger's seat as a flash of red hair caught his eye. He watched as a red-haired young woman slid into the driver's seat and gunned the engine, skidding off as someone emerged from the warehouse door brandishing a gun.

"Get back here you little bitch!" the man yelled over the pulsing sound of the music flooding out the open door from the rave inside.

Rowan slid quietly from the car, moving with catlike grace to stand behind the distracted man. Before the man noticed his presence, Rowan grabbed the man's gun arm and wrenched it behind him. "Who ya shootin' at there Cowboy?" he growled in the man's ear as his gun fell soundlessly to the snow covered ground.

"N-nobody." Rowan could heart the man's heart pounding furiously in his chest.

"Then who were you yellin' at?"

"N-nobody," the man stammered again, yelping as Rowan twisted his arm back further inches from breaking it. "J-just s-some little slut…w-who ran off without p-payin me," the man added with Rowan's coaxing.

The scent of the man's fear was intoxicating to Rowan as he held the man immobile. How easy it would be to drain him dry, this low life that no one would miss. Rowan fought against the urge, knowing he was wasting time. He needed to know if John had finished the job without him, maybe with a new partner. The red-haired young woman he'd seen driving off with John didn't look like a hunter, but maybe John had used her as bait.

Rowan sighed wearily as he scooped up the man's gun from the ground with his free hand. "Say goodnight," he breathed in the man's ear, feeling him go rigid as he waited for the Rowan to shoot him. Holding the gun by the barrel, Rowan smacked the guy in the back of the head with the butt of the gun. The man slumped to the ground as Rowan let him go and moved away shoving the gun into the waist of his tailored black jeans.

He smoothed a strand of his raven hair back, tucking it behind his ear as he moved to enter the warehouse. The scent of fresh blood halted him. He turned from the door following the all-too-familiar scent of John Winchester's blood. He stopped a few feet away from the door, noting his friend's blood smeared against the wall of the warehouse.

"Damn it, John," he cursed under his breath as he followed a trail of small blood drops toward where John's truck had been parked. "Stupid, impatient sonuvabitch, couldn't wait for me…always goin' in with guns blazin'," he muttered as he noticed John's .45 on the ground. He knew if John hadn't noticed that he'd dropped the gun that he must be bad off. Not to mention that he was letting the red head drive and John Winchester didn't let anyone drive his truck. "Please tell me Dean isn't like him." He lifted his eyes to the heavens and sighed knowing that with his luck, Dean would be exactly like his father. "I am so screwed."

After making a quick run into the warehouse to find that John had indeed taken care of the vampire problem there, Rowan hurried back out into the cold winter night. Pulling the guns from his waistband he threw them onto the passenger seat as he slid into the sleek black car. He gunned the engine, pulling the door shut as he sped off after his injured friend.

As he drove he considered his options. The girl might have taken John to the hospital. Rowan shook his head; John wouldn't let her do that…if he was conscious. Rowan chose to believe that he was as he couldn't see the petite redhead carrying John to the truck and there had been two sets of foot prints in the snow.

The woman's red hair nagged at him, it was distinctly familiar to him. Yet his distracted mind couldn't quite pinpoint why. _Ellen's,_ he thought as he continued to consider the possible places John would be headed. Of all John's contacts and all the safe harbors to choose from, Harvelle's Road House was the closest by far. Hopping on the highway, speeding east, thankful that he'd chosen the Porsche after all.


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Disenchanted Ghost of You**_

_**By: gengen0776**_

_So, here is chapter 2…hope everyone is enjoying…I should be updating once a week now…thanks for your patience and please drop a review it means a lot!_

**Chapter 2**

"S-so, Johnny," Becca began, after they'd been driving for a few minutes. Ticking her gaze his way she nervously noticed his eyelids droop shut. "Tell me about you…what brings you out to a rave on Christmas Eve?" She glanced over at him when he didn't answer immediately, worried that she'd done something wrong and he'd lost consciousness. Relief washed over her when she saw him staring out the windshield looking like he was weighing his answer. "I mean wouldn't you rather spend it with your family?" she asked when he still didn't respond.

A weary sigh escaped John's lips as he glance at her. "W-what about y-your family? T-they've gotta be m-missin' you."

"I-it's complicated," Becca replied evasively, without taking her eyes off the road.

"F-family…is the m-most important thing…th-there is," John breathed after a moment.

Becca glanced at him, a grin playing on her lips. "This, coming from the man who is not with his family on Christmas Eve."

A chuckle escaped John's lips; the comment reminded him of something Sam would say. "Y-you got me there…I-I g-guess." He grimaced as pain seared through his injured abdomen. He watched as Becca's grin melted from her lips and the concern returned to her face. "It's c-complicated."

"So, guess that makes us both very complicated people…th-that's great." Becca rolled her eyes and sighed, hoping they didn't have much further to go. "Doesn't leave much to talk about though."

Apparently, small talk was neither of their strong suits and she wasn't sure how else she could make sure John remained conscious. Becca searched for something else to say, some conversation that wasn't about the weather or 'how about those Mets' related to break the growing silence.

"T-take the nest…nex esit," John slurred from beside her, sending her heart pounding. Slurred speech was not good, not good at all. She hazarded a glance at him as she followed his direction and took the off ramp. "Head s-sosth ta Harsvelle Roadhouse." John fought the dark spots creeping into his vision, trying to blink them away. His head lolled back against the seat as he lost the battle and his eyelids slid closed.

"J-John?" Becca breathed frantically as she pulled to the shoulder of the road once they were clear of the off ramp. "Oh God, oh God! P-please don't be—"

"J-jus' drive."

Becca felt her panic momentarily subside, his words reassuring her that he was still with her. Yet, the fact that he hadn't opened his eyes left the worry that they might arrive too late brewing beneath the surface as she pulled back onto the road. "J-just stay with me, J-Johnny," she whispered as she sped south as he'd instructed, looking for any sign of the Roadhouse he'd mentioned.

After a few miles it came into view. _Harvelle's Roadhouse_ wasn't much to look at. A rundown clapboard building, with a dingy façade, Becca might have missed it completely if not for its name shining out in neon lights. The lot was almost empty, save for a beat-up looking pickup truck and two motorcycles parked at the front of the place. She slid John's shiny black pickup into the empty spot closest to the door.

Cutting the engine she quickly slid out the door and hurried around to the passenger's door. She shivered violently as she pulled it open; December in Nebraska was not the place for a t-shirt. "C-c'mon J-Johnny," she coaxed through chattering teeth as she leaned across his immobile body to unclip his seatbelt. "D-don't think I c-can get you in th-there without s-some help." She pressed her cold fingers against John's neck praying for a pulse, unsure what to do if he was dead. _That would be an awkward situation,_ she thought. She breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn't have to find out as she felt his weak pulse against her finger tips.

Seeing that the cool air had not had the rousing effect she'd hoped for, Becca slid her left arm between John's back and the seat. She carefully laced her arm around his torso and leaned her left shoulder beneath his right arm using her right hand to drape it over her shoulders. Slowly, she eased John out of the truck, preparing herself to bear the brunt of his weight. John's knees buckled beneath him as his feet touched the unpaved ground and Becca felt herself being pulled down with him. Her hand flew out to the door for support and using all the strength she could muster she managed to get them both upright again.

She'd stumbled a few steps when the door flew open and a burly biker with a shaved head stepped out. Calling his goodbyes over his shoulder, the biker didn't notice Becca until he turned and nearly ran into her. "Damn John, what'd ya get yerself inta this time?" he mumbled, hurriedly wrapping his arm around his injured friend and easing his weight off Becca as he half carried John inside. "Ellen! Get yer first aid kit!"

Rowan was one exit away from the Roadhouse when he saw John's truck ahead. He sighed relieved that he'd been right and would soon be caught up with his friend and the mystery redhead. As he watched the truck turn off at the next exit he noticed the flashing lights in his rearview mirror.

"Sonuvabitch," he muttered as he glanced down at the speedometer. He quickly weighed his options. He could easily speed up and get away from the State trooper who had now switched on his siren. There was no way he could keep up with Rowan's Porsche. The problem with that plan was that he was getting off at the next exit and he didn't want to waste time leading the trooper away from the Roadhouse. He needed to know John was okay.

Rowan pulled over to the shoulder of the highway, hoping it would be easier and quicker this way. After stowing the earlier discarded gun under the seat, he drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as he waited for the lawman. A smile spread across his lips as he watched the Trooper tuck her hair into her hat and made her way over with commanding strides. Rowan forced the smile from his lips, replacing it with an all-too-real look of concern as he readied himself to talk his way out of another ticket.

He rolled down his window before the officer had a chance to rap on it. He glanced at the name tag on the lawwoman's jacket before looking up at her with his worried green-eyed gaze. "License and registration," she demanded her voice all business as she held out her hand without meeting his gaze. "Do you realize how fast you were driving?" she asked as he handed her his paperwork.

"I-I'm sorry officer…Morgan…I…I just got a call…m-my friend is…well he's not doing so well." She eyed him cautiously a moment as she looked from his license photo to him.

"Oh." He watched her posture relax as she met his gaze and knew he was off the hook. "W-well, I guess I could…ya know let you off with a…a warning," she stammered, her cheeks flushing. She looked away as she handed his documents back. "Y-you should be careful…the roads are very icy…wouldn't help yer friend if you got yourself…" her voice trailed off as she scrawled something on her pad and tore off the page. "H-hurt," she breathed, folding the paper in two as she looked back at him through veiled lashes.

"Thank you, Officer Morgan, I will." Rowan flashed her an earnest-looking smile as she handed him the slip of paper.

"Y-you…drive safe n-now." She turned away, pulling off her hat and shaking out her hair as she sauntered back to her car.

Rowan grinned as he watched her in his side mirror. When she'd slid back into her car he unfolded the slip of paper she'd handed him knowing what she'd written before he opened it.

_Rachel Morgan 308-555-1212 call me _

Rowan sighed as she pulled open the glove compartment and threw the paper in among the dozens of others he'd acquired after talking himself out of similar situations. _I really should clean that out, _he thought as he pulled back onto the highway being careful to remain within the speed limit as he made his way to the next exit and on to Harvelle's Roadhouse.

Becca watched through the open door as a woman with light brown hair, Ellen she assumed, hurried around the bar and to John's side. Becca hesitated to enter the bar as the commotion continued. What would they think? Would they think she'd hurt John? Ellen instructed the man who'd taken John from her to take him to the backroom as she quickly followed behind. As they disappeared from view, Becca fought between the urge to run and her need to know that John would be all right.

"Are you hurt?" Becca jumped as someone touched her shoulder. The petite blond, who looked no older than her, forced a friendly smile as she took Becca's arm and led her into the bar. "Your shakin' like a leaf," the girl added as she guided Becca to an empty seat near the bar.

"I-I'm…I'm okay," Becca mumbled, her eyes never leaving the door to the backroom.

"I think yer bleedin' mayb—"

"S'not my blood," Becca interrupted glancing down at her once white shirt that was now a mess with crimson splotches. Her fingers gingerly touched the largest of the stains noticing the blood stains on her hands. _Too much blood…there's too much blood._

"Oh," the blond replied her hands dropping to her sides. "Don't worry, he'll be fine...my mom takes care of this kind of stuff all the time." Becca looked up at the girl, forcing a smile at her attempt to be comforting. "I'm Jo, by the way."

"B-Becca," she responded, wrapping her arms around herself as a shiver coursed through her. _Shouldn't be cold,_ she thought as she gazed at Jo dressed in a tank top and jeans. It was obviously warm in the bar, so why was she shivering? Hearing a door open behind her, she turned quickly to see if someone who was coming out. She quietly prayed to see John walk out of there, on his own.

"Wha' the hell is goin' on out here?" a skinny young man, wearing only a pair of jeans and sporting a mullet asked, squinting their way. "I'm tryin' ta entertain a lady in her," he added with a meaningful shake of his head toward the barely-clothed girl standing in his doorway.

"Um…yeah you can…uh…go back to that, Ash," Jo assured, cringing as she shook her head. "Everything's under control out here."

"Thank…you," he sighed exaggeratedly as he returned to his entertaining.

"Sorry…Ash is…well…he's Ash." Jo smiled apologetically, noticing Becca's attention had returned to the backroom door. "He'll be fine. John's been in tougher scrapes than this."

Becca's gaze turned back to Jo, questioning what she'd just said. "John gets in trouble like this a lot?" Shivering again, she wondered how long it would take her to warm up.

Before Jo could respond the backroom door clattered open and Ellen emerged wiping her hands on a dishrag. Becca gaze immediately noticing the blood staining the front of the t-shirt the woman wore beneath her flannel shirt.

Setting the rag down Ellen pulled out a shot glass silently filling it with amber liquid. Swallowing it, before she quickly followed it with another shot. Glancing at Jo as she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, Ellen's eyes widened as she noticed Becca sitting beside her daughter. She watched the pale young red head shivering in the sweltering heat of the bar. Her arms clutched around her the front of her bloody white t-shirt.

"Joanna Beth," Ellen barked in a tone that caused Jo to jump to her feet.

"She's n-not hurt mom, i-it's John's blood," Jo assured, nervously glancing from Becca back to Ellen worried she'd missed something important.

"Get her some clean clothes, something warm," Ellen ordered moving around the bar to Becca's side as Jo hurried away. Becca was staring at the backroom door again, her face a pale mask of fear. "It's okay, honey," Ellen soothed, gently cupping Becca's face in her hands as she crouched next to her. "He's all patched up, and resting back there," she assured.

Becca blinked up at the woman, her muddled mind wondering how Ellen had come to be next to her when she hadn't noticed her move from the bar. "He's okay?" Becca whispered as Ellen's words sunk in. Ellen nodded with a reassuring smile. "C-can I…I want to see him…please," Becca requested through chattering teeth.

"First ya need to change," Jo chimed in, holding a small pile of clothes in one hand as she extended her free hand to Becca. "C'mon let's get you cleaned up." Becca hesitated, glancing at the backroom door and then at Ellen who nodded again, gently patting her shoulder. With a weary sigh Becca allowed herself to be led away by Jo, glancing back at Ellen who smiled reassuringly as she poured another shot of whiskey.

Rowan skidded his Porsche to a stop behind John's pick up, quickly cutting the engine. His senses were assaulted by the scent of John's blood as he slid gracefully from his car, carelessly slamming the door shut. The passenger door to John's pick up lay ajar and as Rowan moved to close it he noticed slick substance, he knew was blood, coating the lower back of the seat.

"Sonuvabitch, Winchester, can't ya ever wait?" he muttered as she slammed the door and stalked into the Roadhouse. The bar was empty except for Ellen standing at the bar pouring a drink.

"An' where the hell were you?" Ellen barked, glaring at him. Rowan noticed the blood on her shirt as she crossed arms and waited for his response. "I thought you two were takin' care of this nest together."

"Is he…is John all right?"

"No thanks to yer sorry vampire ass," she spat, pulling a knife from behind the bar and moving toward Rowan.

"It's not my fault he ran in there half-cocked without waiting for me!"

"If I find out you had anything to do with this…"

"H-he's right Ellen," John called from behind them as she leaned heavily against the doorjamb of the backroom door. "He was late and I was impatient…it was m-my fault." John slowly pushed away from the doorjamb and moved to the closest stool at the bar. "Pete, thanks for…you know," John apologized awkwardly. He and Pete weren't on the best terms, but the burly biker had still helped him and John wanted him to know he appreciated it.

"Don't mention it," Pete replied over his shoulder as he headed for the door. "Ellen," he added with a nod, before pushing out the door. The bar was silent as they listened to the rumble of Pete's Harley.

"G-got one of those fer me?" John asked when the sound of Pete's motorcycle had faded, nodding at the shot of whiskey on the bar.

"Here," Ellen said as she placed the bottle of whiskey and a clean shot glass in front of him. "I'm goin' ta bed. Lock up, would ya?" She added as she headed down the hall to her room.

_**End Notes:**_

_So, John is going to be okay…but what about Becca? Hope you're still enjoying…if you are please take the time to drop me a little review…_


	3. Chapter 3

_**The Disenchanted Ghost of You**_

_**By: gengen0776**_

_Chapter notes: Sorry for the delay there was a glitch on the site and every time I came to update it wouldn't let me upload my file…thanks for your patience and your reviews!_

**Chapter 3**

"See, John's gonna be fine," Jo smiled as she turned on the hot water, before turning to help Becca out of her bloodstained shirt. Becca tried to help, tried to move but all she could manage to do was shiver as she stared at the wall afraid to see her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She stood quietly trembling as Jo wet a washcloth beneath the hot water and went to work gently cleaning away John's blood from Becca's stomach and side. "Okay, now you need to wash your hands," the blond instructed, handing Becca a bar of soap and stepping aside.

Becca moved stiffly forward still avoiding her reflection in the mirror, though she noted that it was now fogged up with steam from the hot water running below it. Mechanically, she washed her hands barely noticing the scalding water. Finally, Jo closed the water and helped her dry off her hands. "Thank you," Becca whispered hoarsely. Jo smiled kindly at her as though it were the most normal thing in the world that she should need help changing and cleaning up. "I-I'm usually…I'm just…I don't know what's wrong with m—"

"Don't worry about it," Jo soothed as she eased a black t-shirt over Becca's head, aiding her to find the arm holes, before helping her into a warm flannel shirt. "Perfect," she whispered, adjusting the collar. "I figured you and I were the same size." She smiled warmly as she gathered up Becca's hair and let it fall down her back. "Your hair is an awesome color…is it natural?"

"Uh…thanks," Becca replied after a long pause. Jo was so patient with her, much more patient than she could ever imagine herself being. "Yeah it is."

"Ready to head back out there?" Jo asked, lacing her arm around Becca's unsteady form. "You look about ready to drop," she noted as she balled up Becca's ruined shirt and threw it in the garbage can before gathering up the towel and wash cloth. "You should get some rest…I'll make you up a—"

"After I see John," Becca interrupted. There was no way she could sleep without seeing for herself that John was all right. She found herself wondering why she cared so much. She'd only known the guy a couple of hours and barely knew a thing about him. Yet there was something about him, something that made her feel safe. _He did save me from Ray and his goons_. Maybe that was it, admiration for her savior.

As they returned to the bar area they could hear voices. Becca felt relieved and safe at the sound of John's voice. Again she found herself questioning these feelings as a smile spread across her lips at the sound of John's laughter.

"S-So she gave you her n-number…n-no ticket," John managed as he continued to chuckle. "You'll have ta teach me that one sometime."

"Sorry, John ol' boy it's not something that can be taught," Another husky and strangely familiar male voice replied. "You either got it or ya don't," the other man chuckled smoothly, quickly joined by John's laughter.

"S-Sonuvab-bitch…don't make me l-laugh," John gasped as he continued to chuckle. He was clutching his side as Becca and Jo came into view. "Hey, Becky how ya feelin'" John asked his face turning serious at the sight of her pale form.

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call her that." Rowan and Becca replied in unison.

"Fine, no Red, no Becky…what's a guy s'pos…" John's voice trailed off as he looked from Rowan to Becca and back. "Wait, you know her?"

"It's been a while, almost three years," Rowan replied absently, staring at Becca's quaking form.

"Y-you…no…no I-I…you're not…r-real," Becca gasped, her voice barely a whisper as she stared at Rowan in disbelief. "Th-they said…they t-told me…I-I imagined y-you." She back away unsteadily as Jo tried to calm her. Becca didn't notice, her wide eyes never left Rowan as she crumpled to the ground.

"Becca!" John raced to her side as Jo tried to comfort her. "Becca?" John whispered, crouching next to her. He cupped her chin with his hand, forcing her pale face to look his way.

"Not real…can't be…not real," she breathed, her eyes staring unseeing at him. John tried calm her, whispering in a low soothing voice.

"What the hell's go—?" John demanded as he stood up and turned to face Rowan. The words died on his lips at the sight of Rowan's face. One look at the vampire's wounded expression and John knew Rowan was just as upset as he was.

"She needs to rest," Rowan uttered in a broken whisper. "Jo, do you have a place for her to…to sleep?" he asked softly as he leaned in and scooped Becca into his arms. Jo simply nodded and led the way.

"Is she going to be all right?" Jo whispered as they reached the small room farthest from the bar.

"Of course, she just needs rest," Rowan replied, without his usual confidence. He laid Becca on the bed. Her whispered mantra quieted now as she stared up at him. "Close your eyes, Becs. Sleep now, darlin'," he soothed watching as her eyelids drooped closed. "That's it, sleep. Everything will make more sense in the morning." He gently stroked her cheek until her breathing was slow and even and he was sure she was sleeping. Then he pulled the blanket from the bottom of the bed and draping it over her, before turning to leave the room with one last pained glance her way.

John stood waiting for him outside as he emerged from the room and pulled the door closed. He moved wordlessly past John back to the bar, where he poured himself a shot of whiskey and waited for his friend to join him. He'd had many ideas of how his reunion with Joshua's first guardian would play out, but this had never been one of them. _They convinced her it was all a lie._

Sadness filled him as he remembered how heartbroken she'd been when Michael had taken Joshua from her to pass him on to his next guardian. _I should never have let her leave, I should have stayed with her, helped her through it. _ Instead she'd gone home to her mother who couldn't possibly believe the story Becca had told about where she'd been and what she'd been through. Angels, demons, vampires, special children that needed protecting; they'd convinced her none of it was real.

"Who is she?" John asked sliding onto the stool next to Rowan. He waited as Rowan swallowed the shot of whiskey, slamming the glass down against the bar with enough force that it shattered to pieces.

"She's a guardian," Rowan replied, staring down at the shards of glass scattered across the counter.

"What's a guardian?" Jo asked, reminding them both that she was there with them.

"Jo, honey, you should get some rest," John suggested. "We'll lock up," he added as she opened her mouth to argue.

"Fine," she replied crossing her arms as she headed down the hall to her room. "G'night," she called over her shoulder.

"That lil' thing was a guardian?" John stared a Rowan in disbelief. "She can't be more than eighteen."

"Nineteen, actually," Rowan amended with a sigh. "She's a lot tougher than you think." A nostalgic smile played momentarily on Rowan's lips, but evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. "She was Joshua's first guardian."

John was silent a moment as he took this in. From what Rowan told him Joshua was about three years old now, that meant that Becca was only sixteen when she'd been given the responsibility of watching over the cosmically important child. "She was just a kid, how could they put that kind of responsibility on her?"

"Well, some might disagree with puttin' a gun in your son's hand and teachin' him what goes bump in the night when he was six. But hey, who am I to judge?"

"Th-that was different," John huffed reached for the bottle of whiskey.

"Was it?" Rowan watched the warring emotions on his friend's face as he poured himself a shot of the amber liquid and quickly swallowed it down. They sat in silence for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts and memories before Rowan spoke again. "I want you to train her to be a hunter."

"No way, she's just a kid." John shook his head, groaning at the pain the movement sent through his injured head. "Have you seen her? That would be like training Jo to hunt. It ain't gonna happen my friend."

"You don't know her like I do. She's…she's fierce," Rowan described, the same nostalgic smile, tugging at his lips as he stared at the bar. "An' she's good under pressure…I mean she got ya here didn't she?" He added, meeting his friend's gaze, daring him to deny that Becca had saved his life.

"And then she broke. We both just watched it happen," John countered, sadness coloring his voice. "I won't be the cause of that again." He scrubbed a hand across is battered face as he remembered the lost look in her eyes.

"Th-that wasn't your fault," Rowan insisted his voice thick with regret. "That was all me." John gave him a questioning look as Rowan pushed away from the bar and began to pace. "I never should have left her to deal with the fall out alone."

"Fall out?"

"After she'd finished her time with Joshua, I just left her to pick up the pieces. I should have stayed with her. I should have helped her deal with the loss she felt." Anger and frustration were building within Rowan and he longed to break something; to pick up a chair and throw it against the wall. He struggled to keep his composure, wishing he could drown his sorrows in a bottle of whiskey like his human companion.

"Why didn't you?" John asked calmly from his perch at the bar.

"Be-because." Exasperation colored Rowan's voice as he stopped pacing and turned to face John. "Because Michael wanted me to help the next guardian," he added raising his arms in defeat, before letting them fall with a sigh. He could see what his friend was doing. John knew that he would have stayed with Becca if he could have, he knew somehow without Rowan ever telling him that he hadn't been able to. "I still should have tried…I could have kept her close, or with us—"

"But two guardians close together like that, it would have been too dangerous. Isn't that what you told me? No two guardians can be with Joshua for too long or it will put him in danger."

"Stop that!" Rowan hissed. _Why'd I have to tell the guy so much? And why does he have to remember every goddamn thing I tell him?_ Rowan sighed as he fell onto the stool next to John. "Look, all I know is that I let her go home without a believable story to tell her mother and I think the woman had her committed. I think they forced her to believe that none of it had happened that neither of us, not Joshua or I, really existed. An—"

"An' when she saw you—"

"It broke her." Rowan toyed with the pieces of broken glass on the bar. "I-I have ta fix her, John. I have to help her find that strong, fierce girl she was…An' I need your help ta do it."

**End Notes:**

So finding out a little more about Rowan and Becca's history here…let me know what you think! Reviews are like peanut M&Ms so please keep'em coming!


	4. Chapter 4

_**The Disenchanted Ghost of You**_

_**By: gengen0776**_

**Chapter Notes: **

Sorry for the delay on posting this…lots of stuff happening in my life left me a little shell shocked and the writer's block soon followed…But good news I'm baaaack!!!

**Chapter 4**

Rowan sighed wearily as he fell into the chair next to the bed where Becca slept. John had gone to bed after agreeing to consider training Becca, leaving Rowan to fill the hours while his human companions slept. He'd briefly considered calling Officer Morgan, but he'd quickly dismissed the idea. He couldn't leave Becca, not again.

"D-don't…please…don't let them take him," Becca mumbled urgently in her sleep.

"I'm so sorry, Becs," Rowan whispered as he eased himself onto the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. He pulled Becca's restless form close to him, holding her as he smoothed her auburn curls. Rowan's heart broke as he listened to Becca sob softly in her sleep, knowing what she was dreaming about. The memory of that day, the day they'd taken Joshua from Becca, was one that would haunt Rowan forever.

"_I-I don't understand," Becca whispered as she watched Michael gather up Joshua's things. "Why? Why can't he stay with me?"_

"_It's not safe," Michael replied as he moved to take Joshua from her arms._

"_N-no…you said…you said I had to leave Charlotte to keep him safe," she sobbed, clutching the fussing baby to her chest. "I-I did everything you asked…I left everything an'…everyone."_

"_I'm sorry, Becca. It's fo—"_

"_Are you? If you take him from me…I-I have nothing." Becca shrank back from the angel's outstretched arms, knowing it would do no good. She turned her pleading gaze to Rowan who stood aside staring at the ground as the scene unfolded. "D-don't…please don't let them take him," she breathed as Rowan continued to avoid her stare. _

"_Becs…I-I'm sorry." When Rowan's guilt-filled gaze met hers, understanding dawned on her face._

"_Y-you knew," she whispered in disbelief. "You knew…an' you didn't tell m—"_

"_You would've tried to run, I—"_

"_Enough, it's time to go. Rowan, take Joshua," Michael ordered, impatiently pulling open the door._

"_Please, Becca," Rowan whispered, his eyes filled with regret as he stepped slowly toward the corner she'd inadvertently backed herself into. "I'll make sure he's safe," he promised as he watched her shoulders sag in defeat._

"_You get to stay with him?" Becca's eyes widened as she looked from Michael to Rowan. " W-why? What did I do wrong? Tell me…I-I promise I won't d—"_

"_No, darlin'…you didn't do anything wrong," Rowan soothed as he gently gathered up Joshua in his arms. The fussing baby immediately quieted as he hurried to follow Michael out the door._

"_Then why am I being punished," he heard Becca murmur. He hazarded another glance at the girl, watching her collapse to the ground and longing to hurry to her side and comfort her. _

GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

The warm sunlight peeking through the dusty curtains was comforting to Becca as she awoke the next morning. Yet it couldn't dissolve the pain and sadness that ached in her chest, left behind by a dream she couldn't remember. Staring at the room around her she searched for something recognizable, but found nothing. Yet this didn't disturb, she was used to waking in unfamiliar places as she'd been moving around for months now since she'd left Charlotte and hit the road. _At least there's no one else in bed with me this time, _she thought a shiver coursing down her back at a memory she struggled to repress. _Don't go there._

Throwing the blanket back, she noted that she was still fully clothed. She wondered how drunk she'd been the night before to fall into bed without getting undressed. She sat up slowly, waiting for the splitting headache that always accompanied her hangovers to erupt. _Nothing, no headache, no queasiness…o-kay._

Somehow, this was more troubling, than waking up in a strange place. She stood slowly still waiting for the headache to hit as she peered around the room, searching for her belongings. She didn't have much, a backpack with some clothes and the necessary toiletries, toothpaste and brush, soap, shampoo. Seeing nothing she moved to the door, hoping to see something familiar to remind her of where she was and where she'd left her things.

She made her way down the hall that stretched away from her door. She noted that her room was the last at the end of this hall. She glanced at the doors on either side of her as she walked quietly toward the sound of voices coming from the other end. All the doors were closed, affording her no clue as to where she was. As she approached a large opening to her left, she observed that the hall continued only a little farther after it. The closer she got the more prominent the smell of stale beer and alcohol became.

The voices became louder as she approached, but not enough to make out what they were saying. One voice, low and gruff, was familiar to her and she strained to remember who it belonged to. She paused at the opening, scanning the deserted bar for the source of the voices she could hear more clearly now. She noticed two men sitting at a small table near the door, one with his back to her, long raven hair flowing down his back. She watched the other man stand up and shuffle slowly to the counter to refill his coffee cup.

"Red!" he greeted, noticing her as he headed back to the table. His smile was warm and welcoming, the skin crinkling beside his kind brown eyes. Becca stared at him a moment as recognition dawned.

"How ya feelin', Gramps?" she asked, greeting him with a smile of her own as the night before began to fall into place.

John chuckled at the nickname, had it been anyone else calling him that he would have ripped them a new one. He clutched his side as his laughter pulled at the stitches there. He watched her smile falter as her brow furrowed with concern. "I'm good, darlin'. How you feelin'?"

"I'm good," she shrugged as she moved toward him. "So, Johnny," she began hesitantly as she remembered where her bag was. "D'ya mind if I borrow your truck for little errand?" she asked smiling her most winning smile.

"Errand?" John gave her a questioningly look.

"Well, I kinda left my stuff back with Ray," she replied as she continued to smile. "We left in a bit of a hurry yesterday," she added quickly. She watched John's face darken at the idea.

"No way, it's too dangerous." Becca had almost forgotten John's companion until he spoke his husky voice instantly familiar as she pieced it together with the long dark hair and hawkish features she spun around to meet.

"You!" Becca's voice flared with anger that boiled within her at the site of Rowan St. Christen. "Who the hell are YOU to tell me anything?" she demanded, stalking across the small distance between them.

"Becs, please," Rowan pleaded as he stood up from his seat reaching out to touch her shoulder but she batted his hand away.

"No," she growled leaning in so that there was barely an inch between their faces. "My friends call me Becs…you are no friend of mine," she spat, shoving him hard back into the table, sending his barely touched coffee crashing to the ground.

"I'm so sorry," Rowan whispered pain coloring is words as clearly as it was etched on his face. The pain she saw there, gave Becca momentary pause, but she wouldn't be deterred. This man had taken everything from her and left her to pick up the pieces alone.

"Oh, you're sorry?" she laughed humorlessly. "Well that just makes it all better!" Her hands flew from her sides as she spoke and she noticed John back away slightly.

"Becca, I never meant—" Rowan's words were abruptly cut off as she sucker punched him in the gut.

"What?" she demanded angrily. "To hurt me?" she added punctuating her words with an uppercut to Rowan's jaw. "Yeah that makes sense. You were lying to me and using me," she bit out as she slammed her fist into his stomach again. "But you never meant to hurt me!" Her words caused the vampire to flinch more than her physical attack ever could because they were true. He had lied to her and used her, yet he'd never meant to hurt her.

"Please," he breathed, gently placing his hands on her shoulders as he spoke. "T-try to understand, I didn't—"

An angry bellow erupted from her as she charged into him, crashing into the empty chairs and tables as she slammed him to the ground. "Don't," she growled as she sat on his chest pinning him to the ground. "Don't you tell me you didn't have a choice!" she yelled balling her fists. "You let them take him from me…he was all I had left…I gave up everything to keep him safe!" she shouted, her fists punctuating each sentence with a punch to the vampire's face.

All the while Rowan lay there, without defending himself, letting her pummel him. "You let them take him and then left me to pick up the pieces…I went home, you know, with this crazy story of angels and vampires and special children…" she whispered, her breathing ragged now as she continued to punch his bleeding face, her fists growing heavier and heavier. "You know what happens when you talk crazy?" she demanded, panting as she continued. "They…they throw you in the loony bin…they give you these treatments…h-horrible treatments…until you believe their truth." Her voice was barely a whisper, her anger depleted until she was left broken again, staring down at him with eyes filled with hatred and pain. "You…you did this to me," she sobbed, pushing away from Rowan's comforting hand on her shoulder. She stood shakily, continuing to stare down at the vampire with contempt as she staggered out the door.

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Rowan lay on the ground, unable to look away from Becca's contemptuous glare until the door slammed shut behind her. "J-John," he moaned looking to his friend.

"I got it," John assured, rushing out after Becca as Rowan slowly sat up.

The kitchen door swung open and Ellen stocked through, surveying the damage to her bar. "What the HELL is goin' on out here?" she demanded, stalking to where Rowan sat.

"I-it's nothing," Rowan lied, winching as he touched his bloodied face. "I'll pay for any damages," he assured as he stood unsteadily on his feet.

"Did you an' John get in a fight?"

"No."

"So, this was yer Christmas present to yourself then?" Ellen pressed for answers, staring the vampire down.

"No, Becca was…angry with me," he replied evasively.

"Jo told me what happened last night, how the girl reacted to you," Ellen informed. "And now this." She motioned to his current condition and that of her bar. "I don't know what ya did to hurt that girl. John says it's some misunderstanding." Ellen stepped closer to him, her voice became menacing as she added, "But if you hurt her again…I'll cut you down myself."

Rowan chuckled humorlessly as he held Ellen's steely gaze. "If I hurt her again I'll lay my head on your bar for you to chop it off," he murmured, before stalking toward the bathroom to clean himself up.

**End Notes:**

Thanks for reading and as always I would love to hear what you think so drop me a review! Pretty please!


	5. Chapter 5

_**The Disenchanted Ghost of You**_

_**By: gengen0776**_

_**Chapter notes: So this chapter catches you all up to where I am with posting on UnGen…new chapters should be up weekly or maybe even bi-weekly! Hope you are still enjoying this…If you are please let me know!**_

**Chapter 5**

"Whoa, kiddo," John whistled as he found her sitting on the ground against the siding of the Roadhouse's front façade, to the far left of the door. "Who knew such a lil' package could pack such a big punch!"

He leaned against the wall, sliding slowly down to sit next to her. She stared straight ahead, without responding, her hands resting upturned on her lap.

"I-I'm sorry for what you went through," he said softly as he gently took her right hand into his and surveyed the damage. Her bruised and bloodied knuckles were already beginning to swell. She continued to stare ahead, eyes with a far off look. "He really didn't have a choice," he added as he replaced her right and proceeded to gingerly lift her left hand to examine it.

"You're defending him?" she whispered as she continued to stare straight ahead. He could hear the disappointment in her voice. "I should have known you'd side with him...he's your friend." A weary sigh breezed from her lips as she turned to look at him.

"It's not like that," John insisted, hesitating at her betrayed gaze that settled on him. "I just...I don't see what he could have done differently."

"So, you would have done the same?" she demanded. "You would have lied to me and used me? You would have betrayed my trust and taken my baby from me?"

"I-I don't know," John replied honestly it was an impossible situation, the type of situation that you couldn't really know what you'd do until you were in it. What he did know was that Rowan was broken up about it. He knew the guilt would continue to eat away at his friend, the same as the hatred and pain would continue to eat away at Becca if they didn't deal with it. "What would you have done in his place?"

Becca was silent a moment and he could tell she was carefully considering her answer as she relived that pivotal moment in her life. "I-I would have helped, I would have hid me and the baby, or run away—"

"Where could you have run that Michael, or some other angel couldn't have found you?" John interrupted.

Becca sat silently, considering his words for a long moment. When she looked at him again her eyes were brimming with tears. "It's not fair," she sobbed. "I did everything they asked and they still took him from me...why?" she breathed, tears flowing freely down her cheeks as she shivered against the cold Nebraska morning. John wrapped his left arm around the girl, ignoring the searing pain in his side as he held her close.

They sat like that for a long moment, until her sobbing quieted and they were both shivering from cold creeping up from the frozen ground beneath them. "C'mon let's get those cuts cleaned up and some ice on those knuckles of yours, slugger," John sighed, slowly making his way to his feet with a groan. He extended his hand to Becca to help her up. "Then we can get some breakfast."

"Not hungry," she murmured, closing her eyes as she swayed next to John.

"Seriously, Red," John insisted as he lace him arm around her waist to steady her. "When's the last time you had a decent meal?" Becca opened her eyes, giving him an irritated look and John wasn't sure if it was because he'd called her Red or because he was forcing the issue. Maybe it was both. "'Cause I know it's been a while for me and Ellen is a great cook."

"Gotta go get my stuff, Johnny," Becca sighed, stepping away from him. "So ya gonna lend me your truck, or should I hitchhike back there to get it?" she asked, turning slowly to face him.

"How about…we take care of your hands and get a bite first?" John countered, arching his eyebrow with a look that let her know he wasn't trying to talk her out of going. "I'll drive ya where ever ya want, just let's get ya fed first." He watched her reaction, knowing he'd won as she heaved a weary sigh.

"Fine, I could use some coffee."

Rowan stared at his reflection for a long moment, studying the cuts and abrasions that Becca had inflicted. Running the hot water in the sink below he used a moistened wad of paper towel to wipe away the blood that stained his face. Noticing as he did that the wounds had already begun to heal. He wished he could somehow slow the healing, knowing he deserved so much worse.

"_So, this was yer Christmas present to yourself then?"_ Ellen's words rung in Rowan's ears reminding him of what he'd been trying to forget. Christmas had a way of reminding Rowan of how much his presence could negatively affect people's lives and why it was best that he keep his distance. Genevieve's death on Christmas morning would weigh on his conscience eternally. Knowing that his one night with the woman he loved had pushed Killeon to kill her.

Then he'd allowed himself to get close again, meeting the young guardian carrying a very special child within her womb. Michael had clearly stated his purpose, watch and protect; no contact. Somehow, he never could follow orders. _Well, I_ was_ protecting her,_ he reasoned as he remembered the night he'd stepped in and saved her from a mugger on her way home from the little diner where she worked.

"_I could have taken him,"_ he chuckled softly as he remembered her false bravado. Anyone else might have been fooled, but he could hear her racing heart beat and smell her fear. _If I had stayed away…if I'd somehow saved her without her seeing me…without her ever meeting me, _Rowan found himself wondering as he stared at his reflection. _Would it have made things easier?_

With a sigh he tossed the paper towel into the bin on the far wall and turned off the water before leaving the bathroom. He paused at the entry to the bar as he watched Ellen, with her first aid kit open, tending to Becca's injured hands.

"Ouch!' Becca hissed as Ellen disinfected the cuts on the knuckles of her right hand.

"That's what you get for hitting a vampire," Jo teased as she handed a bandage to her mother.

"Yeah," Becca chuckled scornfully. "He's probably already healed up from it, too."

"Ya know, I got a machete back here," Ellen informed as she secured the bandages on Becca's right hand with some medical tape. "We could make quick work of him," she added with a grin, causing Becca and Jo to laugh.

"Nah, it's not his fault I have anger issues," Becca assured with a shrug. "I mean he could've handled it differently, maybe, but it wouldn't have changed anything…It would have happened no matter what he did." She looked up, noticing Rowan standing at the threshold of the bar's main area. "See, told ya he'd already be healed up and lookin' handsome again," she added as she met his gaze and smiled tentatively.

Rowan felt his heart clench as he realized that she understood, that on some level she forgave him. He looked away, casting his gaze down at the beaten wood floor beneath his feet. He knew she would never be able to forgive him completely. His betrayal was too great for that. Besides how could she forgive him when he couldn't forgive himself? "How're your hands?" he asked, without looking up.

"A little sore," Becca admitted as Ellen wrapped her left hand. "Won't heal up as fast as you, but I've been through worse," she replied lightheartedly, cringing as she realized that he would probably misinterpret her words. "I'll be good as new in no time," she amended.

Rowan nodded, continuing to stare down at the ground with unnatural interest. "I-I've gotta take care of…something," he mumbled, quickly moving toward the door. "John," he breathed as he passed the hunter. Pulling the door open, he waited for John to follow him outside before continuing. "I'm goin' ta get her things," he announced. "I don't want her going back there alone."

"Was planning on takin' her after break—"

"You're not exactly in top shape…what if things get hairy?" John nodded, sighing wearily as he glanced back at the door. "Besides, me and Ray, I feel like we built a rapport last night…think I can draw on that."

"A rapport eh?" John grinned.

"Yeah, John, you know me…I'm a real people person," Rowan chuckled, patting John's shoulder.

"Uh, hey, Rowan?" John said, sounding preoccupied. He grabbed the vampire's arm as he turned to leave. "Should I be worried? I mean your blood did mix with hers back there."

"Nah, it'll be at least a week before she turns," Rowan replied with a shrug and turned leave again.

"You sonuvabitch!" John growled, launching himself at the vampire. He threw Rowan against the hood of his car, fisting his shirt collar with his left hand. "How could you do that to her?" John demanded, readying his right fist to strike the vampire in the face. "I should k—"

"Kill me? Yeah I wish…Relax, John," Rowan chuckled. "I gotta bite the person to turn'em…and I would never let that happen," he added his voice serious as the smile slid from his face. "Not to her…not to anyone."

John heaved a sigh, attempting to calm himself before reentering the Roadhouse. If he didn't know that his friend couldn't die, he would have thought he had a death wish. Rowan was one of those people who knew how to push other people's buttons. _How could he even joke about something like that?_ John wondered, holding his injured side as he pushed the door open. Pain seared in his side and he knew that somewhere between comforting Becca and slamming Rowan into his car he had ripped at least a couple of stitches.

"Johnny, you okay?" Becca's concerned voice sounded in his ear and John wondered if she'd been watching from the window.

"M'okay," John assured, forcing a wan smile. He felt the wetness beneath his fingers as the continued to clutch his side. "Just pulled a couple of stitches," he added with a shrug. He looked up, his gaze meeting Ellen's as she watched the exchange from the bar.

"Why don't ya c'mon out back and I can check those for ya?" Ellen called from the bar, motioning for him to follow her as she picked up the first aid kit and moved to the backroom door. "Jo, honey, why don't you start bringing out breakfast, this'll only take a couple minutes."

"C'mon Becca, you can help me set the table," Jo coaxed as Becca stared after John.

Rowan smiled smugly as he pulled up to the Roadhouse less than two hours later. Ray had been extremely cooperative when Rowan had burst into the warehouse and found him sleeping on a leather couch in the upstairs office. He all-but threw Becca's bag to Rowan when the vampire had asked for it. Of course Rowan was baring his fangs at the poor guy at the time. It had been utterly unnecessary, but Rowan had wanted to amuse himself and put the fear of God, or maybe the devil, in the scumbag.

He chuckled as he recalled the terrified look on Ray's face. He'd half expected him to pass out or pee himself, but Ray had managed to keep it together long enough to give him Becca's stuff and watch him leave. However once the door close behind him, Rowan had heard the man break down, weeping like a child and whispering his thanks to God.

Things had gone so smoothly with Ray that Rowan had time to call in a favor and do some Christmas shopping before heading back to the Roadhouse. A red satchel containing the gifts now sat next to Becca's belongings on the passenger's seat. Taking on the responsibility of repossessing her belongings was a small thing compared to what he'd taken from her, but Rowan was determined to do whatever he could to make amends no matter how long it took.

As he turned into the small lot in front of the Roadhouse the smile slid from his face. Standing in the corner farthest from the bar was the last person Rowan wanted to see. Stopping inches from the man, Rowan cut the engine and sat glaring at him a long moment before grabbing up Becca's belongings and the gifts and sliding from the car.

"What the hell are you doin' here, Michael?" Rowan spat, slamming the car door and rounding the front of his car where the angel stood.

"It's time," Michael replied cryptically. His arms were crosses against his muscular chest as he looked a Rowan expectantly.

"Right now?" Rowan shook his head in disbelief. "I can't leave yet…I have to fix things with Becca." Rowan turned to glance back at the Roadhouse. "Do you have any idea how messed up she is because of what we did…what you made me do?" Rowan demanded, meeting the angel's steely gaze.

"We all have our crosses to bear," Michael replied, his face remaining stoically unchanged by the mention of their betrayal of Joshua's first guardian. "Your cross is a helluva lot larger than most."

Rowan flinched at the reminder of his greatest betrayal and the damnation that it had ensued. He knew he was cursed to live forever, watching what his grievous actions had done to humanity. Was it really necessary for Michael to remind him every chance he got? "I just need to know she understands…then maybe she can forgive—"

"Becca Sinclair's forgiveness is not the one you should be worrying about," Michael interrupted matter-of-factly. "Now, you have a job to do," he continued after a moment's pause. "It's time for you to find Jacob Samuels. His faith has been shaken and watching over Joshua will renew it."

"So, where is this Samuels guy and what's his story?" Rowan asked with a resigned sigh. He glanced over his shoulder, checking that no one had noticed his impromptu meeting as Michael quickly gave him the details of Joshua's next guardian.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disenchanted Ghost of You**

**by: gengen0776**

**Story notes: So I know it's been a really long time since I've updated this...Not sure anyone is interested in reading anymore except for one special person who decided to fave me recently and is looking forward to an update...so here I am. Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 6**

John sat at the far end of the two tables they'd thrown together, watching as Jo played twenty questions with Becca. He could see that Jo was overjoyed to have another girl her age to talk to and Becca was politely answering all her questions. He was thankful for the distraction, hoping Jo would keep Becca occupied until Rowan returned. When he looked over at Ellen he noticed a far away look in the woman's eyes as she stared unseeing out the window. John's heart clenched as he remembered that today was Christmas day.

He knew Ellen must be missing Bill, because the holidays were when he missed Mary the most. How she'd loved every tradition, from decorating the tree to dragging him caroling. He smiled sadly as he remembered his wife's luminous smile. Forcing back the memories that he knew would follow, he focused his gaze on Ellen again.

John's heart filled with guilt as he wondered if Bill would be there, sitting with them, if not for his mistake. His mind drifted unbidden back to their last hunt together. _If I had been more careful…if I hadn't scuffed the salt off that trap…_ John could still recall Bill's pleas. Possessed by the demon they'd been hunting and hearing what it planned to make him do to his family; Bill had begged John to kill him.

Pulled from his memories by the sound of the bell above the entrance door signaling someone's arrival, John looked up to see Rowan enter the bar. He was carrying a backpack John assumed was Becca's in one hand and a red velvet satchel in the other. John smiled and shook his head only Rowan St Christen could possibly pull strings to do Christmas shopping on Christmas morning. "What'd you do mug Santa?" he asked with a chuckle.

"What you'd rather have fat and jolly?" Rowan smirked. "I figured the ladies would prefer a better looking stand in," he added with a saucy smile and wink.

"My Bag!" Becca hurried over to him, snatching it up with a grateful smile. "Uh…thanks," she murmured before dropping the bag at their feet and throwing her arms around him.

"No problem," he replied as he awkwardly hugged her back. This was not the reaction he'd been expecting, not the reaction he deserved.

"What's in the bag?" Becca asked as she pulled away. She studied Rowan's troubled expression. She knew he would never forgive himself for what had happened with Joshua and a small part of her was happy about that. But the other part of her longed to see the mischievous twinkle in Rowan's eyes again. "Better looking stand in," she added with a wink.

Rowan forced a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he reached into the red velvet satchel. "So would you ladies like to sit on my lap and tell me what you want before I hand out the gifts?" he asked with a chuckle.

Becca shook her head and rolled her eyes at the vampire. "You are terrible…just hand over the gifts already!"

"Now, now, little girl," Rowan chuckled, clinging protectively to his bag of gifts as Becca moved to take it from him. "Santa likes children who are patient."

"Well, you're not Santa and we're not children," Jo commented, moving to stand beside Becca, both girls looking ready to wrestle him for the bag.

Rowan cocked his eyebrow with an amused grin. "True enough." Digging his hand into the bag, he pulled out the first gift his fingers touched. He studied the label on the large parcel with exaggerated interest until he heard Jo's exasperated sigh. "Well, this one is for little Johnny Winchester!" he laughed as he held the gift out to John.

John studied the simple red wrapping paper and golden ribbon for a moment before looking up at Rowan. "You didn't have to—"

Rowan waved his hand dismissively. "Really, John, I'm as rich as all hell, so this is hardly worth getting excited about. But if I thought you would get this upset, I can only imagine how you would've have been about the truck I was going to buy you."

John shook his head as he tore away the paper to reveal a first aid kit. "I figured with all the trouble you keep getting yourself into you could use a new one," Rowan chuckled as John looked up at him with a bemused smile. "An' this one's deluxe you could practically operate on someone with what ya got in there."

"He does have a point John," Ellen chuckled from across the table.

"Okay, okay, ha ha ha you got John a first aid kit," Jo muttered impatiently. "There are three other people here waiting."

"Joanna Beth," Ellen growled disapprovingly at her impetuous daughter.

"That's okay, she's right you lovely ladies are still waiting for your gifts." Rowan closed his eyes and reached again into the satchel slowly fishing around with a look of deep concentration on his handsome face. Again he waited for Jo's sigh before pulling out an equally bulky gift. "This one….hmmm who was it for again?" he murmured as he studied it closely. "Aww yes, Joanna Beth."

"Don't call me that," she grumbled as she snatched the gift from his outstretched hand. She weighed it in her hand a moment, studying the heavy package's awkward shape. Finally, when she gave up on guessing its contents she tore away the paper to find a book and four stakes. Jo's brow furrowed as she looked questioningly up at Rowan. "A book and some stakes…gee…thanks."

Rowan chuckled heartily at her reaction. "Well, I heard you want to be a hunter," he replied with a shrug. "The book is so you know your stuff before running off half cocked after something."

"And the stakes?"

"Well, with all the vampires hanging around you, you never know when you might need them," Rowan replied with a wink.

"Yeah that's great except that stakes don't work on vampires," Jo huffed, rolling her eyes. "Even I know that."

"Ahh, but those are Hawthorne stakes they'll immobilize a vamp and give you time to chop of their head…'Cause you know the best defense with any vampire is a good offense." With a shrug he looked over at Ellen whose murderous glare told him she was considering using the stakes to keep him from moving while she went to get her machete behind the bar. "She's gonna do it anyway," he shrugged with a winsome smile. "Better that she be educated and prepared."

Rowan dug into his bag again, pulling out the two last gifts he tossed the satchel aside. He studied both gifts for a moment and then looked from Ellen's angry glare to Becca's bemused expression as though deciding who he should save for last. Finally, he held out his hand to Becca and dropped the small package into her palm.

Slowly, Becca opened the gift, taking care not to rip the paper. Once she'd removed it she placed the paper on the table beside her and studied the small velvet jewelry box. "I…I can't—"

"Please Becca," Rowan whispered as she tried to hand the gift back before opening it. He studied her shaking hand as he spoke. "I know it won't change what happened, but I wanted you to know Joshua is safe and being taken care of."

The room was completely silent as everyone waited for Becca's response. She gazed into Rowan's eyes as though searching them for some truth buried deep within their deep green depths. Slowly, she pried the small box open to find a beautiful gold oval shaped locket and chain resting upon the royal blue velvet cushion. She gingerly lifted the locket holding it between her fingers as she studied the delicate flower pattern engraved on its front before turning it over and noticing a message engrave on its back. _Forever in my heart._

Becca's eyes filled with tears as she removed the locket and rested the case on the table. Her fingers trembled so hard as she struggled to open the locket that she almost dropped it.

"Here, let me," Rowan whispered carefully opening the locket and placing it safely back in the palm of her hand. He watched as Becca blinked back her tears and studied the small pictures inside.

A sad smile crept across her lips as she looked from the baby picture she recognized immediately as Joshua to the picture beside it of a much more recent picture of Joshua. "B-but how?" she whispered her eyes still glistening with tears as she looked up at him. "We…we weren't allowed to take pictures of him."

Rowan smiled mischievously. "Well, they took a picture of him in the hospital when he was born…I was supposed to destroy it actually," Rowan explained. "And the more recent one was when I last saw him about six months ago…I had this new camera phone and he was so excited about it and wanted me to take his picture and I never thought to erase it."

Becca stared at him is disbelief. "Th-thank you," she hiccupped with a quivering smile on her lips. 'Th-this is…this is…" Her voice trailed off as Rowan delicately took the locket from her and clasped the chain around her neck.

"I wish I could do more…I wish I could really give him back to you," Rowan whispered in her ear as he pulled away. Rowan gazed at Becca's contented smile and felt a true smile grace his lips. To see her happy even just for this instant momentarily eased his guilt.

Pulling his attention away from the petite redhead he turned to Ellen, surprised to see a small smile gracing her lips as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Apparently watching his exchange with Becca had helped her forget her anger over his gift to Jo. "And last, but certainly not least…Ellen," he announced softly as he thrust a package almost identical to Becca's into the older woman's hands.

Ellen's brow creased as she looked questioningly from Rowan to the small package. "I can't take any jewelry from you." She shook her head, handing the unopened package back to him.

"Ellen, it's nothing to get bent out of shape about. I noticed you weren't wearing your cross and Jo said you lost it," Rowan explained quickly, his husky voice velvety smooth as he gave her his most charming smile. "Besides it's just a little something to keep the bad boys like me away," he added with a saucy wink. He held back a chuckle as her cheeks flushed and she slowly unwrapped the package.

Carefully prying open the small velvet box, she gasped as she looked down at a near perfect replica of the cross that Bill had given her years before. "How…where did you?" She looked up at him her eyes brimming with tears.

"Like I said, Jo mentioned you'd lost yours," he replied with a shrug.

"But it's exactly—"

"You know vampires have near perfect memories." He stared out the window a moment with a distant look in his eyes. "Sometimes I think that's my true curse," he murmured absently. Shaking his head gently, he plastered on a grin as he turned back to the table. "Well, Santa's bag is empty, so I should get going."

"Now? But it's Christmas day," Becca sighed disappointedly from beside him. Their gazes met and Rowan saw understanding dawn in her mismatched eyes. "It's time," she whispered, remembering that it was only a few days after Christmas when they'd taken Joshua away. "Tell him I love him, Rowan…that his mother loves him and wishes she could be there."

Rowan swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat as Becca spoke. He nodded, not trusting his voice as he forced a smile. Tearing his gaze from her, he sent John a meaningful look, nodding his head toward the door. John stood and followed him out.

**End Notes: Hope you enjoyed and look forward to some feedback! It's been a while since I've had reviews...my fault of course. Update coming soon, promise!**


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